


Dark and Deep

by Syls Darkplace (sylsdarkplace)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abduction, Abuse, Caning, Double Anal Penetration, Facial, Gangbang, M/M, Milking, Mindfuck, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Underage Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2286690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylsdarkplace/pseuds/Syls%20Darkplace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen has issues, which he manages with carefully staged public sex acts, and he’s in complete control until a stranger comes along with other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to thank my betas on this [](http://meus-venator.livejournal.com/profile)[**meus_venator**](http://meus-venator.livejournal.com/) and [](http://vennstiel.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://vennstiel.livejournal.com/)**vennstiel**. All mistakes are my own.

Jensen stands and brushes away the leaves and pine needles stuck to his bare knees. He glances around the small clearing and listens for the sounds of footsteps, voices, or the rustling of underbrush, but all he hears is the sounds of birds and the rush of vehicles from the interstate about 30 yards beyond the woods.

His day pack is leaning up against fallen tree trunk, with his cargo shorts, boxers and t-shirt carefully next to it as always. He digs a bottle of water out and takes a long drink. It’s late afternoon, overcast but warm. Good thing since he’s buck naked except for hiking boots. He’d discovered when he got there that the tube of sunscreen in his pack was almost empty, and his pale freckled skin burns easily. He figures he’ll be a little pink across the shoulders, forehead, nose, and the tips of his ears later. This isn’t his first Sunday afternoon in the forest preserve.

He puts the lid back on the water bottle as he hears a rustling coming closer. He drops back to his knees, his cock still hard where it bobs between his legs. He’s anxious with anticipation. He’s never been caught, but he never knows when it might turn out to be a conservation officer, and he could end up in jail for public indecency.

His eyes sweep the scene making sure that everything is in place. He drops back on his haunches, palms flat on his thighs, head bowed like a supplicant.

A man steps into the clearing. He’s wearing Bermuda shorts, a Starbucks t-shirt, and hiking sandals. As usual, his dark hair is a mess, but his blue eyes sparkle as he squints down at Jensen.

“Look at you on your knees,” he says with a smirk. “Day of worship, right?”

In answer, Jensen works Blue Eyes’s fly open. His mouth is watering. He pulls out the guy’s half-hard cock. The foreskin hangs off the end like the open end of a sock. Blue Eyes is always immaculately clean. He smells of fresh sweat from the hike and sandalwood soap, but Jensen’s upbringing tells him that uncut cock is dirty, nasty, bad. He can almost hear his mother’s words echoed by doctors and health ed teachers. It sends a spike of arousal through him as he takes the shaft in his hand and pushes the tip of his tongue under the foreskin.

The guy hisses in a breath and bites his full bottom lip. His cock grows harder as Jensen swirls his tongue over the slick head. He pushes the foreskin back exposing the dark red, glistening crown. He feels the guy’s fingers card through his hair until his palm is resting on Jensen’s head. He urges Jensen forward, and Jensen swallows him until his nose is buried in the guy’s pubes.

“Aw, God, I love how much you love cock,” the guy groans. “You’re so … honest.” He rolls his hips and his cock slides within its own skin across Jensen’s tongue, hits the back of his throat.

The guy’s right. This isn’t the first cock he’s sucked this afternoon, and with any luck, it will be far from the last. He loves the smell of men, the taste of their cocks and their come. He hasn’t had an orgasm yet. He won’t let himself for a while. He loves this prolonged state of arousal. It buzzes through him like a drug, making his body burn and tingle, his mind fuzzy, focused on nothing but more want, more need, and in the end, complete satiation. He’ll be so relaxed and tired that he’ll have a hard time staying awake long enough to drive home.

But right now, he sucks Blue Eyes down with enthusiasm. He palms the guy’s nuts, rolls them, tugs gently, and Blue Eyes grunts. His hips jerk as come spills into Jensen’s mouth. He pulls out, lets come paint Jensen’s cheeks. Jensen squeezes the base of his own dick to keep from coming as Blue Eyes rubs the slick head of his dick over Jensen’s lips and across his cheeks. “You’re an angel of mercy,” he says.

Blue Eyes grins down at him as he steps back and tucks himself in. “Some people feed the homeless,” the guy says walking slowly backward. “You give spiritual sustenance and physical succor.”

Jensen just licks his lips and watches the guy step back into the woods. He barely has time to grab a drink of water before he hears footsteps and voices. Two men enter the clearing. One is tall with dark hair and blue eyes, the other is bald. He knows their names – Mike and Tommy. He’s met them at the bars. In fact, he’d told them about this place when he was drunk one night. They’re regulars. He has a few. Others hear about it through the grapevine. He isn’t there every Sunday. Sometimes he has family obligations – a barbeque or birthday party – otherwise, he’s there. It’s his therapy. It fills the void.

Mike and Tommy are already opening their flies. They are loud and silly at the club, but here they’re quiet and intense. Tommy pulls his erection out with obvious relief. “I could barely walk the last quarter mile,” he says. His voice is tight. “Just thinking about your mouth ...”

Jensen runs his hand up the back of Tommy’s thigh as the bald man steps close. Mike joins him. They’re hip to hip and loop an arm around each other’s waists, cocks as close as they can get them. Both of them, straining and dripping precome right in front of Jensen’s face. He fondles Mike’s balls as he suckles the head of Tommy’s dick.

He knows they’re both watching him. That’s half the turn on – the heated gaze, the want in men’s eyes – but this is all they get, his mouth for a few a minutes, to blow their wad in it or on him, and then he dismisses them. He has no more need for them. They can’t have anything else. It’s free, and he figures it’s a deal for them. He gets what he wants – all the cock he can suck in an afternoon, no strings attached.

He switches to Mike, sucking down his dick while he strokes Tommy’s. Mike groans. “Wouldn’t it be great to take him home,” Tommy says. Mike tenses, and a look must pass between them because Tommy says, “I don’t mean like as a third, but like locked in a closet.”

“Jesus,” Mike hisses.

Jensen looks up through his lashes. Mike looks like he wants to tear him apart and suck the marrow from his bones. Jensen lets Mike’s cock slip from his mouth. He strokes both of them as he laves over Mike’s sac. His nuts are heavy and tight. Mike’s thigh is damp with perspiration against Jensen’ cheek as he suckles first one ball and then the other. Mike’s dick twitches in his hand and Jensen’s showered in gobbets of hot cream.

“Aw, fuck!” Mike says. Tommy pushes in closer and slaps Jensen’s hand off him. He pushes his dick into Jensen’s mouth, and Jensen doesn’t move. He lets Tommy fuck his mouth. His mind goes blank. His balls are heavy and his cock aches and oozes precome.

“Isn’t he pretty covered in come?” Mike asks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy pants. He pulls out and jerks his cock fast and hard once, twice and on the third time shoots jizz all over Jensen’s face. Jensen’s right there, right on the edge, but he pushes himself back from orgasm as Tommy slaps his cock on Jensen’s lips.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mike says. “Should have to have a license for that mouth.”

Tommy nods. “I’d like to see a ring gag in it.”

They’re already stepping away. They know the protocol. They know from experience he won’t talk here. This isn’t the Jensen they hang out with in clubs, but they’re slipping back into their everyday lives.

“Hey, we’re all going to Leather Man for a drink Wednesday at eight. It’s Rob’s birthday,” Mike says as they head back up the path.

Jensen hangs his head and pants. He can barely think. He wonders what time it is. Must be getting close to evening. He should probably start home soon. One or two more. The older bearded guy hasn’t been here yet. He’s usually one of the last. The young blond with the hooded eyes and the huge cock hasn’t come around yet either. He hopes he won’t have to wait long. He doesn’t want reality to come creeping back before he gets off.

Heavy footsteps come near and a guy steps into the clearing. Jensen hasn’t seen him before, and he feels both anticipation and a little fear. Maybe, the two are somehow related. His cock twitches. The guy is tall, really tall, broad shouldered and slim hipped. He’s wearing camouflage cargo pants with bulging pockets, boots, and a dark brown t-shirt. He has a scruffy beard and looks like some kind of mountain man or militia member. He brushes his long chestnut hair back from his face and his wide mouth quirks up at one corner.

Mountain Man crosses to Jensen in two strides, and Jensen finds himself looking up that long body into fox-tilted eyes. The guy’s gaze is heated as it searches Jensen’s face. “Heard about you,” he says. “Filthy cock-sucking boy.”

The words hit Jensen like a strong whiff of poppers. Jensen’s balls are so full, so tight, he needs to shoot right then, but he won’t, not until he has this cock in his throat, not till he’s swallowing this guy’s load. He drags his gaze away from the man’s face and practically claws his fly open. He’s commando, and his cock is as long and powerful-looking as the rest of the guy’s body. It feels as though it’s been pulled from an oven, a bead of precome glistens in the slit. Jensen swipes it up with a kitten lick.

The guy makes a humming sound and says, “That’s sweet darlin’, but it needs a good workin’ over. Now, put that mouth to use like I know you can.”

Jensen wraps his lips around the crown and suckles it before slipping more into his mouth. He’s stretched wide. He’s never had anyone this big before, and he isn’t sure he can take it all. He works it in and out, a little farther each time. He can feel the tension in the man’s lean body. Jensen knows he’s holding back the urge to buck his hips forward and choke Jensen on his cock. His hand is on Jensen’s head the way Blue Eyes’ had been, but with more pressure. He’s urging him to take it deeper, sooner, and Jensen tries because he wants it. He wants to feel this cock twitch in his throat and shoot straight down his gullet.

Fingers grip his hair, and the dick pushes deeper, past his gag reflex. Jensen tips his head and swallows. It stretches his throat, hurts, and he knows his voice will be wrecked tomorrow. The guy grips Jensen’s hair and rolls his hips, pulling out and pushing back in even deeper. Jensen almost gags, grabs the guy’s thighs and hangs on. He has no control. This cock owns him. His mind goes still as his body trembles, sweat beads on his face and trickles down his back. The orgasm that’s been building all afternoon vibrates through his body, right there, rightfuckingthere.

The guy pulls out of Jensen’s mouth, a long string of spit and precome connect the head of his cock to Jensen’s lip. “Not enough,” the guy growls and pulls Jensen to his feet. Jensen’s so far gone and off-balance that he doesn’t respond until he’s spun around and bent over a fallen tree trunk. Mountain Man kicks Jensen’s feet apart and pulls his hands behind his back.

“No!” Jensen shouts, but he feels rope being wound around his wrists. Where the fuck did that come from? He struggles, but he has no escape. Without his hands, he has no leverage to push himself off the deadfall. “No, no! Stop!”

With Jensen’s hands securely bound, Mountain Man leans over him. The teeth of his zipper bite into Jensen’s ass cheek, and his hard-on slots into the crease. “Your dirty mouth isn’t enough, slut,” he growls. “I’m going to own you.”

The guy leans back, and Jensen hears the crinkle and tear of a foil packet. He wonders if it’s a condom or just lube.

“Please, don’t,” Jensen begs. “Don’t do this.”

Mountain Man moves back in, blankets him. “Shut up,” he says and puts a hand over Jensen’s mouth. It smells like sex and gun oil. The head of his cock slides along Jensen’s ass crack, nudges the furled opening. Jensen is panting through his nose. He tries to slow his breathing, relax. He hasn’t had anal sex in a long while, and this is really going to hurt. It doesn’t for a moment. There’s just pressure until it pushes past the first ring of muscle. Jensen’s screams into the smothering hand.

The guy doesn’t hesitate. He groans as he continues to pry Jensen’s body open. Jensen struggles and sobs. The only consolation is that he’s taken it up the ass enough to know that while it hurts like a son of a bitch, it probably isn’t injuring him. He can feel the slide of lube. He’s going to be okay, he tells himself. He takes a deep, whistling breath through his nose as the guy bottoms out, and Jensen tries to relax. He knows that fighting will only make it hurt more, and he isn’t getting away until Mountain Man has come anyway. He forces himself to go limp.

“No more screaming or yelling?” the guy asks. Jensen shakes his head, and the hand moves to his scalp. Fingers twist in his hair again, pull his head back, neck arched. There’s a long, slow burn as the thick flesh filling him slides out until the head catches his stretched rim. Then, it rams in with enough force to knock the air from his lungs. He couldn’t scream if he wanted to. His eyes stare wide and blank into the green of the woods and a patch of open sky.

Mountain Man sets up a fast, brutal pace, one hand gripping his hip and the other his hair. The bark of the log is scraping his chest raw, and Jensen’s cock has gone soft from the pain of the entrance, but his balls are still heavy and full, and the guy’s cock is rubbing over his prostate with every rough thrust. His cock begins to fatten again, but he isn’t even angry at his body’s betrayal because he’s lost. This is why he spends his Sunday afternoons on his knees sucking random cock because this is too much. He could lose himself to this forever, to one man, to a lifetime on his knees or his back. He’s more than this. He is. Or was.

As the guy continues to pound into him, tension coils low in Jensen’s groin, his body begins to tremble again, his mouth is hanging open, drooling as he moans. Spit slides down his chin. A bird cuts through the sky. Jensen’s entire body tenses and jerks as his climax hits. Mountain Man grunts and stills for a moment before giving a few shallow thrusts. Jensen feels his channel grow slicker even as it clamps down hard on the guy’s dick. The fingers in his hair loosen and tighten again before slipping away. His scalp hurts but all he feels is pleasure radiating through his body. All the body aches in his ass, chest, wrists are just background noise drowned out by the flood of bliss. He goes limp over the deadfall again.

The huge, hot hand drops from his hip and thick flesh slides from his abused hole. It feels empty. Come trickles down his thigh. He’s floating. His senses registering random pains and sounds. Mountain Man’s footsteps, the sound of his zipper, a bird call. He startled when his arm is grabbed and he’s pulled off the log. Jensen’s knees are weak, and he drops to them.

In the corner of his eye, he sees Mountain Man pick up his neatly folded clothes and stuff them into his pack. He gets the bottle of water and squats next to Jensen. He unscrews the cap and holds the bottle to Jensen’s lips.  He drinks gratefully. The cool liquid soothes his raw throat. He becomes aware that he was operating on autopilot. He needs to snap out of it. He knows that, but cooperation is so much easier, so much less painful.

Mountain Man puts the water bottle in the pack and picks it up. As he stands, he pulls Jensen to his feet.

“What are you doing?” Jensen asks. His voice is hoarse, his throat raw from the stretch and pounding.

The guy tips his head and narrows his eyes. “I told you. You belong to me now.”

Jensen feels the first real stab of fear. His mouth goes dry and his mind blank. He tries to jerk away. He twists and throws himself backward but only succeeds in falling on his ass. He rolls and comes up on his knees. He isn’t thinking about how he’ll get away bound as he still is. He’s just trying to put space between him and this predator or stall. Surely, another guy would come along, a regular, someone who would help him.

But Mountain Man just grabs his upper arm and drags him to his feet. An open handed slap has enough force behind it to cut Jensen’s lip and make his neck hurt.

“Don’t fight me,” the guy says. Jensen is surprised to not hear anger in his voice or see it in his eyes. “You’re coming with me. Understand?”

Jensen nods.

Mountain Man cups Jensen’s cheek with his free hand and swipes blood of his lips with his thumb. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Jensen flicks at the cut on his lip with the tip of his tongue and sees the resulting heat in the guy’s eyes. Mountain Man leans forward and brushes his lips over Jensen’s. “I’m sorry for hurting that pretty mouth.”

With that, Mountain Man drags him toward the far side of the clearing and into the woods. The path is narrow and the underbrush becomes thicker. Mountain Man pushes Jensen ahead of him, and the sounds of the interstate become more distant. Brambles leave wicked scratches across his exposed skin until his legs and belly are crosshatched with them. Occasionally, a twig slaps at his soft cock hard enough to make him cringe.

“Keep going,” Mountain Man says. His huge paw is in the center of Jensen’s back, and Jensen figures he should be glad he still has his boots on as he crashes through a small thicket.

Mountain Man grabs his upper arm to steady him as they descend a sharp incline. They’re in the bottom of a narrow ravine. There’s bright sunlight up above, but the little valley is deep in evening shadow. A stream rushes over a rocky bed, and they follow it upward until the reach a high rock wall. The stream pours from a stone outcropping about forty feet above.

“This way,” Mountain Man says and urges Jensen to the left. The rock forms uneven steps going up on one side of the small waterfall. Jensen feels anxious and uncertain climbing with his hands bound behind him, but Mountain Man is right behind him. His steadying hand never leaves the small of Jensen’s back. Near the top, Jensen sees a large, dark opening in the rock wall, and Mountain Man urges him toward it. His legs are tired from the hike and the climb. He finds himself trembling with hunger and fatigue.

Jensen is pushed through the opening and stops short. There’s a tarp on the floor with a thin camping mattress and sleeping bag laid out. A Coleman lantern and a cooler sit nearby along with a box of MREs and packets of freeze dried-food. There’s a cooking pot and a kettle, a couple plastic cups and plates, some flatware, a wooden spoon, a coil of rope, a heavy jacket.

Mountain Man drops Jensen’s pack beside his supplies, and points at the sleeping bag. “Sit down,” he says.

Jensen starts to say something, but a shove on his shoulder is enough to force him to his knees. “You need to learn to do what you’re told,” Mountain Man says. Jensen realizes that he’s not going to get out of this through open resistance. He’s got to keep and use his head.

Mountain Main picks up the coil of rope and kneels beside Jensen. When he begins to wrap one end around Jensen’s neck, Jensen’s eyes go wide and he falls to the side. Mountain Man hovers there with the rope in his hands.

“Please let me go,” Jensen says. His throat hurts, and his eyes sting.

The guy’s eyes go soft, and he shakes his head. “No, baby,” he says. “Do you know the kind of risk you were taking out there letting all those guys use you?”

Jensen feels a hysterical laugh trying to push out of his throat. _“Well, I do now,”_ he’s tempted to say. Instead, he says, “It was fine. I know most of them.”

The guy’s brows knit. “You didn’t know me.”

He shuffles forward and finishes knotting the rope around Jensen’s neck. He cuts the rope so there are two long ends, which he ties around each wrist and secures with a complex knot. It leaves movement in Jensen’s arms but not enough for him to straighten them out all the way.

“I know you were a Boy Scout,” Mountain Man says. “These knots familiar?”

Jensen shakes his head.

“Didn’t think so.” Mountain Man doesn’t exactly smile, but there’s a self-satisfied expression on his face. “The more you mess with them, the tighter they’ll get.”

Mountain Man then coils rope around each of Jensen’s thighs and ties them to his ankles so he can’t straighten his legs. By the time he finishes, there are tears running from the corners of Jensen’s eyes. He realizes that the ropes offer enough movement to allow an awkward crawl. He feels pathetically helpless. He should have fought harder, but fighting was trained out of him a long time ago. He’s worked so hard to deal with his issues, but his solution has landed him right back in the den of a beast.

Mountain Man swipes his thumbs under Jensen’s eyes and helps him sit up. “It’s okay,” the guys says. “It’s going to be okay, darlin’.” He pours water from a canteen into a plastic cup and holds it to Jensen’s lips. He winces at the pain in his cut lip, and when Mountain Man sets the cup down, he gently kisses Jensen again.

“I don’t think you can get too far trussed up like this, do you?”

Jensen shakes his head.

“I’m going to go move your car,” the guy says.

Jensen feels even more hope slip away. “How long have you been watching me?”

“Weeks. Knew I had to save you.”

Weeks. The guy had been stalking him for weeks. He clearly knew a lot about Jensen and planned this out. And Jensen knew nothing. “I’m Jensen.”

“I know, baby.”

“And you?”

“You can call me ‘brother.’” He leaned forward and kissed Jensen on the forehead, and as he leans away, his fingers stroke Jensen’s cheek. “I used to have a pretty little brother like you.” He pushes himself to his feet. Mountain Man walks over to the pile of supplies. He stoops and lights the lantern, turns it down low. “It may be dark before I get back, but I won’t be gone long. Behave yourself, all right, darlin’?”

Jensen drops his eyes and nods.

“Good boy.”

Jensen lies there on his side for a while. He’s thirsty again. He rolls up to his elbow and then pushes himself onto his hands. It’s awkward not being able to stretch his arms out, but he gets his knees under him and crawls the few feet to the canteen. By the time he gets there, his knees ache. He could sit down here and drink, but he’d rather have the canteen with him since he doesn’t want to crawl back for another drink, but he can’t crawl and carry the canteen with his hands. He argues with himself and finally leans down and grabs the handle of the canteen with his teeth.

Slowly, he drags the canteen back to the sleeping bag and drops to his side again. He wants to rub his knees, and by rolling into a ball, he’s able to reach them. He sits back up and takes a long drink from the canteen. It’s an old Army canteen, and the water has a weird metallic taste. He’s hungry. He hasn’t eaten since lunch. He wishes he thought to look through the supplies to see if Mountain Man has any granola bars or trail mix or something. He knows that MREs are supposedly “ready to eat” but he’s heard they’re disgusting. He’ll eat those when MM makes him eat them. No, he tells himself, he’ll figure out a way to escape first.

He takes another drink of water, grimacing against the taste, and lies down. The light from cave entrance is becoming dim, and he wonders how MM will find his way back. Jensen is just glad that the lantern was left on. He’s never spent a night in the woods like this.

_He jerked awake as the zipper of sleeping bag slipped down and another body slid in next to him. Jensen tried to back away, but he knew there was no getting away. There never was._

_“What, what are you doing here?” he stammered._

_“Dad said you were spending the night out here in the tent,” his step-brother Drew said. Jensen could smell the beer on his breath. He was home from college for the weekend and had gone out with friends. Jensen had thought that Drew would come home drunk, not find him in his room, and go to bed, but he hadn’t stayed out late enough. Jensen’s step-dad was still up watching TV no doubt and had told where Jensen was._

_Drew was now pressing Jensen down to the ground, and Jensen didn’t stand a chance. He never had. Only two years older and not that much bigger, Drew was at college on a wrestling scholarship. Jensen had given up fighting a long time ago, but he thought he’d be safe when Drew moved out. His life had gotten better. He had friends. He slept at night._

_Jensen started to struggle. He wasn’t going to do this anymore. There was a time that Drew had him convinced that this was a two-way street. Jensen had gotten off on it too, but now he knew he was being used. Drew would do it with or without Jensen’s willing participation._

_Drew laughed and grabbed Jensen’s wrist, pushed his arm up over his head, and ground his hips down onto Jensen’s. His cock was hard, and Jensen hated his own traitorous cock for responding. “This how you want it, Jenny? Huh? You want it rough?”_

_Drew moved so fast, flipping Jensen over and pinning him down. He yanked Jensen’s boxers below his ass. “I’ll give it to you rough.”_

Jensen awakens with a start. He shakes off the dream. It’s been months since he dreamed about Drew, but given the circumstances, he isn’t surprised that they’re resurfacing.

MM is crouched beside a small camp stove stirring something in a pan. It doesn’t smell bad, and his stomach feels ready to eat itself.

“Hungry, darlin’?” MM asks.

Jensen doesn’t say anything, but MM spoons some of whatever it is into a plastic bowl. He helps Jensen sit up and hands him the bowl and a cup of fresh water from the stream.

“Chicken and noodles,” MM says. He goes back to the stove and gets the pan. He drops down, cross-legged beside Jensen and eats out of the pan. “Not exactly homemade but edible.”

The bowl is hot. Jensen gets a forkful of noodles and blows on them before taking a bite. They’re made from one of those dried noodle and powdered flavoring mixes. MM is right. They are edible.

“So I took your car and put it in a barn on an abandoned farm. It’ll be a long time before anyone finds it,” he says.

Jensen looks at him wide eyed with the fork halfway to his mouth. “I know some of those guys. They know I was at the forest preserve today,” he says. “They’ll wonder what’s happened to me.”

MM side-eyes him. “You think? Or will they think you just ran off somewhere. You are kind of erratic – moving around, changing jobs.”

Jensen just stares. He can’t imagine how this guy knows that. It indicates that he’s either been talking to people or watching him a really long time. But it’s true, isn’t it? If he doesn’t show up at Leather Man on Wednesday, Mike and Tommy won’t really think much of it. It would be a couple of weeks before they became concerned. He talks to his mother and sister only infrequently. It would be weeks before they’d think anything was wrong. Only an employer would note his absence, if he had one, if he hadn’t been laid off on Tuesday when his position was eliminated.

He ducks his head and takes another bite of food. He feels so helpless again, and he tries to fight it. He knows what that feeling does to him, what it turns him into. He remembers only too well the days that he’d get home from school and go to his room and strip down to wait for Drew. They had an hour before either parent got home, and Drew expected him to be ready. He’d lube his ass, stretch it, because one way or another, he was getting fucked. He might as well enjoy it.

He doesn’t realize that his bowl is empty until MM takes it from his hand. He puts all the dirty dishes in the cooking pot and goes outside. He comes back in and brings a small plastic pail to Jensen.

“Need to piss?”

Jensen feels his cheeks flush when he realizes what the guy is suggesting.

MM laughes. “It’s okay. Everybody has to do it.” He pulls Jensen into a kneeling position with his knees spread and eases the pail between his legs. Even with his elbows spread and his wrists against his belly, Jensen can barely reach his dick.

“Here, let me.” MM gently grasps Jensen’s cock and makes sure it’s pointed into the bucket, but Jensen can’t release a stream. “Relax, baby boy. It’s just peein’.”

Jensen closes his eyes and lets out a breath. Finally, his aching bladder begins to empty. The sound of liquid hitting plastic makes him tense, and the stream stops a moment. It hurts like hell, and he forces the muscles to relax again. He feels the release, hears a steady, powerful stream that slows to a trickle, stops, dribbles. MM shakes the last drops off Jensen’s dick and pulls the pail from between his legs. He kisses Jensen’s temple. “Good boy.”

MM takes the pail outside to empty it, and sits it just inside the entrance when he returns. He pulls his t-shirt off, unties his boots and toes them off before stripping off his pants. It’s the first time Jensen has seen him naked, and he isn’t surprised to see how lean and muscular the guy is. He felt his strength earlier. Strangely enough, he isn’t intimidated. He knows the game. All he has to do is obey and he’s safe.

Jensen lies on his side as MM drops to his knees beside him. His face is in shadow. Jensen wishes he could see the guy’s expression and gauge his response.

“Could you untie my legs?” Jensen asks.

A big, warm hand caresses Jensen’s thigh. “Why?”

“My, my knees hurt,” he says. He decides to take a chance with honesty. “It’s not like I could run off in the dark. I’d fall down the cliff and break my neck.”

MM chuckles. “Yeah, you would,” he says. He begins working loose the knots on the ropes binding Jensen’s legs. He unwraps Jensen’s left leg and starts working on the right. Jensen groans as he stretches his leg out. Pain shoots through his knee. When MM has all the rope uncoiled from around Jensen’s legs, he rubs his knees. “Stiff, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks,” he says. He means it. He is grateful for this small mercy. The guy may be crazy, but at least he isn’t sadistic. It doesn’t appear that he wants to hurt Jensen for the fun of it, and that’s a relief.

MM turns the lantern out and lies down beside Jensen. He pulls Jensen back against his chest, and this is it. Jensen isn’t surprised when he feels the long, hot line of the guy’s erection against his ass. MM nuzzles the back of his neck. He pulls his hips back, and Jensen is sure that he’s stroking his cock, maybe getting it to leak precome. Whatever, moments later he lines up, and pushes into Jensen. It hurts. Not as much as it had earlier. His muscles are probably still stretched some, his channel still slick with come. Still, there’s a momentary sharp ache followed by the long burn of entry. Jensen hisses in a breath and tenses.

“Shh, gonna make you feel good, baby boy,” MM says. He reaches around and grasps Jensen’s soft cock and begins to knead and stroke it as he moves his hips with slow, shallow rolls. Jensen shifts slightly and his prostate is rubbed with every thrust. He tells himself he’s playing along. That’s all. Allaying suspicion that he’ll try to run.

“So good, baby, so good. You don’t need all those other cocks,” MM murmurs in his ear as he picks up speed. “This is all you need, be a good boy, please Brother, and I’ll take care of you.” He’s thrusting harder, jerking Jensen off with fast, firm strokes. “Keep you full of come, on your knees. No more running off, baby boy. Uh, fuck …”

Jensen feels seed spilling into him and he comes with a whimper. He feels as though his balls are being squeezed, turned inside out. He shakes and clenches around the thick length inside him.

“Promise you’ll never leave Brother,” MM says. His hand continues to stroke Jensen’s spent cock.

Jensen’s heart slams against his ribs. “I, I promise.”

“Hm?” His hand is torture on the over-sensitized organ.

“I promise, Brother.”

“That’s my good boy,” he says sleepily and kisses Jensen’s neck.

~~~

The next morning, MM feeds Jensen oatmeal and black coffee before taking all the dirty dishes out in the big cooking pot. When he returns they’re clean. Jensen figures, he’s washed them in the waterfall. He stacks them with the rest of the supplies and leaves again with the large pot. He’s only gone a few moments before he returns with the pot full of water. He sits Jensen on a low rock near the entrance and begins washing him head to foot, making Jensen kneel up on his knees and bend forward so he can wash his ass well. He holds the crease open and runs the tip of his finger over Jensen’s anus.

“Sore?” MM asks.

Jensen is surprised by the question. “A, a little.”

“Stay right there,” MM says and gets a tube of ointment out the supplies. He rubs some over the puckered opening and then presses some up inside. “That should help.”

He rubs Jensen all over with a thin towel and puts ointment on the briar scratches that cover his arms and legs and belly. Then he directs him back to the sleeping bag where he once again trusses him up. He gives Jensen a drink of water from the canteen before he leaves.

There isn’t much to do but think. It isn’t something that Jensen enjoys even at the best of times, and this isn’t one of those. He can see a direct line from this sleeping bag to his teenage bedroom one specific spring afternoon.

He’d come home from school as usual. No one was in the house, and he grabbed a bag of chips and a Coke before heading to his room. He shucked off his shoes and jeans before sitting down at his computer.

_He quickly typed in a gay porn site that he was familiar with and clicked on a clip. He might not be out to his family or schoolmates, but he knew what he liked. His cock was in his hand and it wouldn’t take long, in fact, he might be able to get a couple orgasm in before his mom got home from work. He was so into what he was watching, he didn’t hear his door open. He didn’t know anyone was there until Drew spoke._

_Jensen had nearly fallen out of his chair. Drew just chuckled and pulled the other chair over next to Jensen’s._

_“Don’t worry, kid. I won’t tell if you don’t,” he’d said. He’d unzipped and started stroking his cock. Jensen had a hard time keeping his eyes on the monitor when there was a real, hard, wet cock right next to him._

_He’d known that his step-brother was bi, but he never expected Drew to join him in a spank fest. They’d never gotten along much, and here they were sharing something so secret and dirty. It gave the whole thing a new edge. Jensen had never felt quite so turned on or free. When he came, Drew had followed closely after._

_Afternoon porn watching had become a regular thing for them, and within a few weeks, it was routine. It had seemed natural somehow when they started touching each other first with hands and then mouths. Jensen had nearly come out of skin the first time Drew dropped to his knees and blew him. Soon, Jensen was returning the favor. He liked it a lot. He loved the smell of his step-brother’s body, the feel and taste of his cock. Jensen could almost get off just from giving Drew head._

_He never really thought much about the fact that he was a sophomore and Drew was a junior in high school. It wasn’t that far apart in age. Drew never forced him or coerced him. He taught Jensen things about sex he didn’t know, but that was normal, right? It’s not like they were really brothers. It wasn’t wrong. They only kept it a secret because their parents would freak out._

_Jensen’s knees were on either side of Drew’s head, and he was on one elbow with his step-brother’s cock in his mouth. Drew was sucking him off. Two of his fingers were in Jensen’s ass. This was fairly new. It felt weird at first, but Jensen had gotten to where he liked it. He’d tried to do the same for Drew, but the older boy wouldn’t allow it._

_Jensen could feel the tension building. His balls were so full and heavy. He was riding that edge, which was something new for him too. Usually, he just came like an explosion. Lately, he’d been able to stay on the crest of the wave for a little while, and it was awesome._

_Drew let Jensen’s cock slide from his lips, but kept fucking in and out with his fingers. “I want to fuck you,” he said._

_Jensen pulled off Drew’s cock. “What?”_

_“You heard me,” Drew said and he moved so quickly, Jensen didn’t have time to respond. He was suddenly on his back with his step-brother hovering over him. Damned, wrestling moves. “I said, I want to fuck you. I want to bury my cock in your pretty ass.”_

_Jensen just stared up at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it, but doing it was another thing._

_“Come on, Jensen. We’ve seen it in videos – those guys moaning and squirming while they get fucked and loving it. Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”_

_“Well, I guess, I …”_

_Drew grinned down at him. “Roll over.”_

_“Drew, wait, I don’t know.”_

_“Don’t be a pussy, Jensen,” the older boy said. He dug around in the nightstand drawer and produced a bottle of KY. “Roll over, bitch.”_

_Jensen did, but he was reluctant. It wasn’t so much the act that he was unsure about. It was Drew’s manner. He’d been pushier lately, and this – telling Jensen to roll over and calling him a pussy and bitch. This felt wrong, but Drew already had his hands on Jensen’s hips, he was lined up and pushing in._

_And it hurt. A lot._

_“Wait!” he said._

_But Drew didn’t stop. He continued to push. Jensen’s muscles screamed, every nerve was on fire with the drag of Drew’s dick in his channel._

_“Jesus fucking Christ, so tight,” Drew said._

_“Drew, wait, stop. It hurts,” Jensen said._

_“It’ll get better,” Drew said. He pulled out and thrust back in._

_“No, stop,” Jensen said. He tried to pull away, but Drew wrapped his arm around Jensen’s neck and continued slamming into him._

_“Don’t be a bitch, Jensen.”_

_Jensen whimpered but went still when the arm tightened around his throat. After a few more thrusts, the arm loosened. Drew reached around and began tugging on Jensen’s cock, which hardened again despite the pain._

_Within moments, Drew came with a curse and Jensen followed. Drew pulled out and climbed off the bed. “Gonna shower,” he said casually._

_Jensen was left shaking, filled with the warm afterglow of orgasm and a deep ache, come trickling down his thigh._   


  



	2. Chapter 2

Jensen awakens to the smell of blood. MM is sitting on a rock not far away. He’s holding the body of a rabbit over a bucket. There’s a gaping wound where it’s been gutted. Jensen doesn’t move or make a sound as the man deftly wields a knife, making precision cuts, and then skinning the animal. He tosses the body into a cooking pot and takes the bucket of entrails outside with bloody hands.

When he returns, he sees Jensen watching him. He walks to where Jensen is lying and looks down at him. There’s dirt on the knees of his jeans and his plaid shirt is rolled up above his bloody hands and wrists. His hair is wild from the wind. His eyes are in shadow, and Jensen doesn’t know how to read his expression.

“Roll over,” MM says.

Jensen rolls onto his back. His ankles are still bound to his thighs, so his knees are up, and due to the length of the ropes binding his wrists to his neck, all he can do is cross his hands on his chest. MM’s eyes travel over Jensen’s body for a moment. Jensen gets chill bumps on his arms.

MM drops to his knees at Jensen’s feet and pushes his legs apart. His hands are sticky with blood. Jensen feels it cling to his knees and the inside of his thighs as MM bends down and suckles his soft cock. Jensen gasps. MM hums around the thickening flesh.

Jensen feels slightly nauseous. The smell of blood is stronger – iron and dirt. Part of him wants to sidle away, but his legs drop open farther. His cock is fully erect, the head hitting the back of MM’s throat as the man sucks and licks with fervor.

Sticky hands slide down under him and lift his ass off the sleeping bag, and MM licks down the shaft of his cock and over his balls. The tip of his tongue slides across Jensen’s taint and circles his hole before pushing inside. Jensen lets a quiet, _oh!_ Precome drools from the tip of his cock onto this belly as the slick muscle pushes into him over and over, lapping and curling against the walls of his channel. 

MM hums as though Jensen’s ass is the best thing he’s ever tasted before pulling out and sucking down his cock again. MM’s throat ripples around his dick, and Jensen’s balls pull up hard. Heat explodes in his groin as he spills straight down MM’s gullet. Jensen body arches like an over-strung bow and he almost crushes MM’s head between his thighs.

MM lets Jensen’s dick slide from his mouth and licks the pool of precome from his belly. “Such a good boy,” he murmurs before standing and returning to his task.

Jensen watches him go outside and return with clean hands. He wonders why MM didn’t wash his hands before. He had been incredibly clean about the entire rabbit cleaning procedure – there wasn’t a drop of blood on the dirt – but he’d left bloody handprints all over Jensen. MM quarters the animal and sets it simmering on the stove with wild onions and mushrooms.

“Real food tonight,” he says to Jensen with a grin. “Would you like that?”

Jensen has never eaten rabbit. The idea is a little disturbing to him. Rabbits are those cute little animals that used to eat his mother’s flowers, but he’s eaten lamb, faceless from the grocery store, so he nods.

“Yeah, me too,” MM says. “Rabbit is really healthy, you know? Wild rabbit is most nutritious. More nutrients because they eat a wider variety of food and they’re leaner. Of course, the same goes for farm chickens and eggs instead of factory, or beef or pork.” He shrugs. “Industrial farming isn’t good for animals or humans, but you can’t reason with capitalism, you know?”

Jensen nods again. He’s not really sure what to think of MM. He’s not sure if he’s a right-wing nutjob or a crazy hippy. He’s not sure it really matters. Either way, he’s trussed up like the guy’s next meal.

MM sets the lantern on a nearby rock and sits down beside Jensen. He puts thin pillow between his back and the wall and leans on it. Taking out a thick, but coverless, paperback he begins to read out loud. “What is the pill which will keep us well, serene, contented? Not my or thy great-grandfather's, but our great-grandmother Nature's universal, vegetable, botanic medicines …”

This is familiar to Jensen, but he can’t place it. Something from a lit class in college, he thinks.

“ … let me have a draught of undiluted morning air. Morning air! If men will not drink of this at the fountainhead of the day, why, then, we must even bottle up some and sell it in the shops, for the benefit of those who have lost their subscription ticket to morning time in this world. But remember, it will not keep quite till noonday even in the coolest cellar …” MM has a nice voice. It’s soothing as is the prose. Jensen hasn’t read much since he dropped out of college and that’s a shame, he thinks.

“I am no worshipper of Hygeia,” MM reads. Jensen side-eyes him. He is a beautiful man under that unruly hair and wild beard. If things were different. If they’d met under normal circumstances. But, no, Jensen didn’t get involved, he reminds himself. He avoids entanglements and commitments because … well, look where he’s ended up, might as well have picked the guy up in bar and gotten involved. He might not have ended up in actual bondage, but figuratively, it wouldn’t have been much different.

“ … but rather of Hebe, cup-bearer to Jupiter, who was the daughter of Juno and wild lettuce, and who had the power of restoring gods and men to the vigor of youth. She was probably the only thoroughly sound-conditioned, healthy, and robust young lady that ever walked the globe, and wherever she came it was spring.”

“Thoreau,” Jensen says the moment it pops into his head.

“Yes,” MM says. “You know it?”

“Walden? Yeah, read it in college.”

MM holds his gaze a moment and then frowns before turning the page. “I think that I love Society as much as most …”

Jensen wonders how true that is.

They have rabbit stew and saltines and fresh water for dinner, and he has to admit that rabbit is tasty. MM is a good cook. The two of them finish off the entire pot. He can tell that MM is pleased that he liked it. The man is relaxed and there’s a small smile on his face that reveals the slight indents of dimples. He wonders how this man has become who is, how he’s become someone who rapes and kidnaps strangers.

Jensen wonders if MM has the same kind of thoughts about him and how he became someone twisted enough to blow strangers in remote woods. He’d like to ask MM about this little brother he’d mentioned, but he’s afraid to.

MM lets him use the pail before bed. It’s even harder this time because he has to do more than piss. Jensen is disgusted by the smell and embarrassed by the proximity of another person, that he needs help to relieve himself. MM seems to sense it. He’s kneeling in front of Jensen and pulls Jensen’s forehead against his shoulder as though shielding him from what’s happening or comforting him. Jensen feels inexplicably grateful. He knows it’s stupid. They are both there, and they are aware of exactly what’s happening, but somehow hiding his face against MM’s shoulder helps.

When he’s finished, MM washes his rear and takes out the bucket. When he returns, he unties Jensen’s legs and massages his knees.

“You’ve been such a good boy today,” he murmurs against Jensen’s hair. He kisses him. He holds Jensen’s face in his hands and searches his eyes. “I’m going to take care of you, baby boy. Promise.”

Jensen doesn’t know what to say, so he just nods.

Like the night before, he turns down the lantern and fucks Jensen in the dark. It doesn’t hurt so much. There’s only a momentary flash of pain, and he’s hard in MM’s hand right away. Jensen comes first, and MM catches most of his release in his hand, which he brings up to Jensen’s mouth. He pushes his fingers between Jensen’s lips, and when Jensen suckles them, he knows by the way MM tenses, his movements falter, that he’s spilling into Jensen’s gut.

Jensen shudders. This act shouldn’t affect him the way it does. It should mean nothing, and yet it always has. From Drew to Jeff to James to MM – he’s felt claimed by this one act. It isn’t the fucking. No, a condom would prevent it. This is the third time; not that three is the magic number or anything. The rape in the woods was enough to initiate it, but MM is keeping him full. It’s been oozing from him, smeared on his ass and thighs for two days. MM owns him and knows it.Jensen awakes in the night with a desperate thirst. He reaches out and feels around in the darkness until his hand comes to rest on the canvas-covered canteen. Much as he hates the taste of the water in it, he has to drink. He pushes himself up on one elbow, and MM’s arm tightens around his waist in response.

Jensen unscrews the lid from the canteen and takes a long drink. It isn’t until he’s done that the metallic taste hits him. He screws his mouth up in distaste as he puts the lid back on. He lies down, and MM nuzzles the back of his neck in his sleep. There’s something comforting about that. He should hate the man, he wants to, he does. He does.

_Jensen was bent over the wide desk with his jeans around his ankles. There are piles of student papers marked up with red ink on one side of him; another set waiting to be graded on the other. He wonders which pile his mid-term was in._

_He gripped the edge of the desk as Dr. Morgan pounded into him. When he’d first dropped by during the professor’s office hours eight weeks earlier, he’d had no idea that the man was actually flirting with him, but it had become clear pretty quickly. By the second visit, he was on his knees sucking the man off, and now it was humiliating how the quirk of the man’s eyebrow at the end of class had Jensen coming around to office hours._

_“My God, your ass,” Morgan groaned. “Your fucking body …” His hips stuttered and he pressed himself deep into Jensen, slicking his channel. Jensen hated himself for climaxing then, his arm trapped between his body and the desk, hand around burning his cock. He creamed the front of the prof’s desk._

_Morgan pulled out. “Clean that up,” he said._

_Jensen stood and tucked himself into his jeans. He pulled a tissue from the box._

_“No,” Morgan said. “With your mouth.”_

_Jensen froze. He swallowed the lump in his throat, wanted to say “no,” but dropped to his knees._

Jensen awakes with a headache. His ass and thighs are still smeared with blood and come. He feels dizzy as he sits up. He’s fuzzy headed. He wonders what time it is. He smells coffee, so it must be morning. His legs are still unbound, and he stretches them out in front of him.

MM comes into the cave. “Hey, sleepy head, you’re awake.” He brings Jensen a cup of coffee.

Jensen feels slightly nauseous, but he takes a sip because it might help the headache. MM sits down beside him. He looks concerned.

“You okay, baby boy? You want some breakfast?”

Jensen shakes his head. He feels so tired that his eyes burn. It isn’t just a physical tired, it’s soul deep. MM pulls him close and kisses his temple.

“You need a bath, hm?”

Jensen realizes that’s true. Being clean would make a world of difference, but he’s not sure he has the energy for it.

MM stands and pulls Jensen to his feet. He removes the rope from Jensen’s neck and wrists and leads him just outside the cave entrance where there’s a wide but narrow shelf above the ravine. The stream gushes past just to the right, and MM gathers a bucketful of water. He has Jensen sit on a rock.

“Okay, put your hands over your face,” he says. Jensen does just before he’s sluiced in icy water. It takes his breath away, and he shivers.

“Holy shit!” he exclaims when he catches his breath.

MM laughs. “Sorry, but the sun will warm you up in a minute.” He works up a lather of Ivory soap between his hands and goes to work on Jensen’s hair. MM’s fingers feel so good on his scalp. He hadn’t realized how grungy he felt or how much tension was stored in his muscles. MM has Jensen cover his eyes again before he rinses his hair, and then proceeds to work lather down his arms and back and chest. He has him stand, and his long, slick fingers work suds between Jensen’s ass cheeks, around his sac, and over his cock, which begins to chub.

Jensen flushes pink. He can feel it climb his neck and bloom in cheeks. MM grins, the dimples creasing his cheeks. He leans in and gives Jensen a quick kiss.

“Later, baby boy,” he says and continues lathering down Jensen’s legs. “Okay, one more icy douse.”

Jensen shivers again after the second gush from the stream that kills his burgeoning erection and has his balls trying to climb into his groin. The sun is higher now, warmer, and he dries quickly on his rock. MM brings him another cup of coffee, and Jensen is sure the man kept an eye on him from inside the cave to make sure he didn’t try to sneak off. He knew it would be foolish to try. He was buck naked and had no idea how to get back to civilization.

That was the rational reason, but he also felt strangely serene sitting there in the sun looking out over the green valley, listening to the birds. This must be what a cat on a window sill felt like.

When he goes back inside, MM trusses him up again and leaves him to think and sleep. All he had to eat was a granola bar, and he fills his stomach with metallic water from the canteen.

_He opened the bedroom door, and Drew was standing there with another guy. Jensen had never seen the slim blond before. They were both naked. Jensen didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that Drew didn’t have sex with other people. Jensen knew he liked girls after all, but he never thought he’d bring someone else home. This is their time after school. He had to know that Jensen would be home any moment._

_The guy grinned. “You’re right,” he said to Drew. “He’s really pretty.”_

_“Yeah, he’s great with his mouth too,” Drew said. “This is Mark.” He grabbed the guy’s half-hard cock. “Wouldn’t you like a taste?”_

_Jensen’s eyes widened. The guy had a nice dick, but he couldn’t believe that Drew was suggesting that he suck this stranger off. The guy grasped Jensen’s wrist and pulled him closer. He put Jensen’s hand on his cock. “Come on, Jenny. Don’t be selfish. You shouldn’t keep lips like those in the family.”_

_Drew pressed himself against Jensen’s back. “You know your mouth is watering,” he whispered. And he was right. It was Pavlovian. Jensen’s mouth was watering. He dropped to his knees and stroked Mark’s cock as he laved over his balls._

_“Holy fuck,” the guy said and dropped into Drew’s desk chair. Jensen sucked his cock down. It wasn’t as long as Drew’s, but it was thicker. Jensen’s cock was straining against the seam of his jeans. Drew had fallen to his knees too and was massaging Jensen’s hard on through the tight denim._

_“See, I told you you’d like it, didn’t I, Jenny?” he said. Of course, he didn’t expect an answer. His fingers were working Jensen’s fly open and pulling his jeans off his hips. Jensen was only concerned with working the fat cock in his mouth, stretching hips lips around it. He didn’t notice the mixture of precome and spit running down his chin or the slick fingers working his asshole open, but he groaned when Drew thrust into him._

_“Such a cockslut, baby.”_

_Jensen was crawling across Jeff’s floor. There were rug burns on his knees. The man grinned and spread his legs. He held a glass of Scotch in one hand and his weeping cock in the other._

_“Some guys want an A for this kind of service,” he said. His hand slid up the shaft of his cock and twisted around the head. “Not you. You’re already getting an A. You just like getting on your knees, don’t you?”_

_Jensen shouldered the man’s legs farther apart and offered his open mouth._

_Jensen is bent over the heavy dining room table. His ankles are spread and tied to the legs of it. His wrists are tied above his head and secured to a bolt on the underside of the table._

_The cane came down across his ass again. His skin was already on fire from his shoulders to his knees._

_“Whose?” James asked._

_“Yours,” Jensen answered._

_The cane fell on the back of his legs again._

_“Whose?”_

_“Yours.”_

_“I shouldn’t have to ask.” The cane slapped across his ass cheeks._

_“Yours,” Jensen sobbed._

_Whack!_

_“Yours.”_

_“Good boy.” James’s hand felt like sandpaper as it caressed the globe of his ass. It slid downward between his legs to the plastic cage that held his cock soft. “Keep looking at other guys, and you’ll never get out of this thing.”_

_The hand disappeared, and Jensen lay limp on the table. He was exhausted. He just wanted to fall asleep. He heard the snick of the lube cap and a moment later two slick fingers pressed into his hole and crooked against his prostate. As they rubbed his balls grew impossibly harder, heavier, and he moaned at the uncomfortable bliss that rushed through him. He trembled as fluid ran from his flaccid cock. His face was flushed with humiliation and pleasure. The fingers kept massaging until it hurt and Jensen whimpered, and they pulled out._

_“Good boy,” James said._

_A cloth slid up the crack of his ass, wiping away any lube. James was immaculate. A small, clear glass of fluid was set beside Jensen’s cheek. James took the cuffs off Jensen’s ankles and wrists. He helped him roll over and sit up._

_James held the glass of fluid to Jensen’s lips and said, “Drink.”_

_He was in the basement rec room surrounded by Drew and four of his friends. He had a cock in each hand and another in his mouth. Behind him he heard the slapping of flesh on flesh as the other two jerked off. His cock hung hard, aching, neglected between his legs._

_Hands grabbed him and manhandled him to the pool table where Drew lay on his back. Jensen was made to straddle him and Drew thrust up into him. Jensen’ s cock spurted precome. Drew grabbed Jensen’s hips and drove up into him, hard and fast._

_“I get his mouth,” someone said._

_Another guy straddled Drew’s head and shoved his cock into Jensen’s mouth. His mind was blank. He was a live sex toy, a receptacle._

_Drew stilled and there was a fierce burn and impossible stretch as though Drew was swelling, but a second pair of hands held him. Another cock was being forced into him, and Jensen struggled to get away, but it was no good. He was held fast between the two stronger boys. He felt as though he was being torn in two._

_He couldn’t scream around the thick flesh in his mouth that didn’t stop fucking into his throat. He writhed helplessly, and tears leaked from his eyes._

_“Fuck, he’s a wild one,” someone said._

_“Hurry up, man, I want a shot.”_

_Jensen choked as bitter jizz filled his mouth. “Drink it, fucking whore.”_

_There was laughter._

_“Next.”_

Jensen cries out and struggles weakly against his bonds. His cheeks are wet, and he sobs in a breath. Strong arms wrap around him, and he fights against them.

“Sh, baby boy, hush,” MM whispers. “It’s okay. Not going to let anyone hurt you again.”

Jensen goes still. The disjointed dream runs through his head. Jeff and James and Drew and his friends. Jensen sags against MM’s chest, and fingers stroke through his hair. Just when he thinks the tears have stopped, another sob racks through him.

MM rocks him and murmurs nonsense about how he’ll be safe now and everything will be all right. The man is insane. Nothing is all right. It hasn’t been for a very long time, and Jensen has no reason to believe it ever will be. There is something wrong with him. He attracts these men. He can’t get away from them. One just replaces the one before. MM is just the new guy.

When Jensen’s sobs finally subside, MM kisses the tears from his cheeks and lays him down. He takes the ropes from Jensen’s legs and massages them.

“We’ve got quail and wild greens for dinner,” he says. “You’ll like that, baby.”

He fixes a plate for Jensen and brings it to him with a cup of fresh water. He waits for Jensen to try the quail. “Good?”

Jensen has never had quail before either. It’s tender, succulent. “Yes, it’s good. Very.”

MM smiles, wide and dimpled. “Good. I’m glad you like it.” He goes back to the camp stove to make himself a plate. “Some people don’t like wild meat. I do, so I’m glad you do too.” He comes back and sits beside Jensen who eats slowly, picking the tiny bones from the bird and putting them aside. He watches MM do the same.

The greens are slightly bitter and seasoned with hot pepper and bacon grease. He’s not sure he likes them at first, but they start to grow on him. The silence is oddly comforting. There ought to be tension here but there isn’t. There’s no need for either of them to speak. Jensen isn’t afraid. He wonders if he should be.

After dinner, MM reads more of Walden to him aloud. Then, they go through their usual routine with the latrine bucket as they have every night and morning. They brush their teeth. Jensen’s legs are already unbound, so that’s one less thing to do before bed. MM turns out the lantern and fucks him.

As MM fills him with his release, Jensen licks his jizz from the other man’s fingers, suckles them.

“ _Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous_ ,” MM says in his ear. He rolls his hips. He’s still hard inside Jensen. “ _quivering jelly of love, white-blow and delirious juice_.”

“Whitman,” Jensen says.

“Mm-hm,” MM responds. “ _Bridegroom night of love, working surely and softly into the prostrate dawn; Undulating into the willing and yielding day, Lost in the cleave of the clasping and sweet-flesh'd day_.”

Jensen relaxes into the arms holding him, against the solid chest at his back, surrounded by the soft, warm voice and gentle words. There’s just a flicker of apprehension. He’s felt himself sinking since the beginning. He knows he’ll be subsumed if he doesn’t make an escape, but he’s having trouble finding the will.

“Good night, baby boy,” the low voice whispers in his ear.

“Good night, Brother.” The words are out before he knows what he’s saying, and his breath catches in his throat. MM hums against the back of his neck and presses a kiss there.

~~~

Jensen awakes to the smell of bacon and coffee. It’s gray and raining beyond the cave entrance. MM is at the camp stove and the lantern spreads a pool of light around him. Jensen pulls the sleeping bag around his shoulders and sits up.

“Hey,” MM says. “Chilly, huh?” He pours a cup of coffee and brings it to Jensen. He kisses Jensen on the forehead and goes back to the stove. Jensen takes a sip of the hot, black brew.

“That smells good,” he says of the food sizzling on the stove.

“Just bacon and eggs and toast,” MM says. “Might as well enjoy breakfast since I won’t be getting any fresh food today it looks like.”

“Think it will rain all day?”

MM shrugs. “Looks like it.”

Jensen silently sips coffee and watches the rain. Tree trunks look black and the bright green of the leaves is washed out. He startles from his reverie when MM offers him a plate.

“Hey,” MM says and cups his cheek. He tips Jensen’s head up. Jensen looks into those vulpine eyes and almost believes he sees concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “Just daydreaming.”

“Okay, eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

The bacon is crisp and the eggs are over easy, just like he likes them. There’s blackberry jam on the toast that’s so good he moans.

MM looks over in surprise. “What?”

“This jam is the best ever.”

MM grins. “Yeah? I made it.”

“Did not.”

He nods. “Did.”

“Wow,” Jensen says around another bite. “Amazing. You should be a chef. Totally.”

MM laughs, and Jensen realizes what a weird thing that is to say. Here they are in a cave in the middle of nowhere. The guy is some kind of crazy; a kidnapper, a psychopath maybe. Isn’t he.

Jensen looks over at him crouched beside the stove. He’s taking up the rest of the eggs and putting jam on his toast. This is the man who ties him up, and this is the man who massages his legs. This is the man who raped him and hit him in the clearing, and this is the man who rocks him and soothes him when he cries over bad dreams. This tall, powerful man confuses the hell out of him, but he doesn’t frighten him anymore. That frightens Jensen.

He knows why. He knows that he’s becoming what MM wants. No, he is what MM wants. He isn’t becoming anything he wasn’t before. He’s just becoming that thing for MM. He was doing it as a stall tactic, to fool MM into giving him enough freedom to escape. He was fooling himself.

His toast catches in his suddenly dry throat, and he has to rush to wash it down with coffee before he chokes.

“You okay?” MM asks.

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “Just went down wrong.”

After breakfast, MM puts on a rain poncho and takes the dirty dishes out to wash in the stream. Even from inside, Jensen can hear the rush of water swollen with rain.

MM brings a bucket of water back in with him, and they brush their teeth. Jensen washes as well as he can while MM strips down and goes out into the rain to wash. Jensen goes to the entrance of the cave and looks out. There’s something wildly beautiful about MM with rain water sluicing over his golden skin, running in rivulets over the rippling swell of muscle in his shoulders and back. He turns and sees Jensen.

“You want to come out?” he asks. Without waiting he walks to the cave. He unties the ropes on Jensen’s wrists and neck and pulls him into the rain. The rain is cool, refreshing, and MM smiles as he pulls Jensen against his chest and kisses him. His lips are warm and insistent, and his tongue presses against the seam of Jensen’s lips. He opens and lets it in. This is the first real kiss they’ve shared. Jensen is surprised by it and by the firm, gentle pressure of the hands sliding over his wet skin as though handling an egg or an infant.

But there’s nothing innocent about where they roam as one glides over the globe of his ass and cups it, pulls him against MM’s hips where his cock is rising between them. It presses against Jensen’s belly, and his is pressing up under MM’s sac. And still, MM’s tongue is delving into Jensen’s mouth, along the ridged roof, inside his cheek. As he breaks the kiss, he grasps Jensen’s bottom lip with his teeth and tugs gently before releasing it.

His eyes search Jensen’s face. “So beautiful,” MM says. His eyes are blue and brown and gold. Jensen thinks he could imagine love there. He must be losing his mind. He lowers his gaze, and MM tips Jensen’s chin up and kisses him again.

“Let’s go inside,” he says.

They dry off quickly in the shelter of the cave entrance, and MM pulls him down on the sleeping bag and presses him onto his back. MM keeps the bottle of Astroglide nearby where he can find it in the dark. He slicks his cock and pushes Jensen’s legs up over his shoulders.

This is new as well. He’s unbound and on his back. MM is huge. His shoulders block out much of the light from outside as he leans over Jensen. His damp hair falls around his face, but Jensen sees him bite his lip as he pushes in. His eyes fall shut. Jensen has the strangest impression that he’s praying.

There’s a flash of pain and then pleasure, fullness, completeness. This is the moment that Jensen should fear, but he can’t because at the time if feels too right. Later he’ll think of how his control is slipping away, but now he moans and raises his hips to meet the next thrust. The head of MM’s cock rubs over his prostate, and he moans again, raises his hips again, and they’re moving in rhythm like one animal, moans and breath entwining as the tension rises. Jensen’s fingers dig into MM’s back, he arches off the bedding. MM licks his exposed throat, sets his teeth against Jensen’s skin and nips.

Jensen cries out, hot cream splatters between them, and MM’s thrusts falter, and he’s filling Jensen’s gut with his come. Jensen’s hole becomes slick and sloppy with it. MM stills inside him and drops down to his elbows. He’s breathing heavily.

“Mm,” he moans. “Knew you were worth saving.” He kisses Jensen and pulls out. He rises and gets a wet cloth which he washes the come off them with. He lays back down beside Jensen.  As he does at night, he pulls Jensen against his chest and kisses his neck. “Stay with me, baby boy.”

Jensen doesn’t answer. He watches the rain. Listens to the quiet susurration of it. He feels MM relax. His breathing deepens, and Jensen realizes that he’s asleep. His breath is warm on Jensen’s neck. It feels so peaceful. He wants to stay there and stop fighting. Stop surviving. If he gets away from this one, there will just be another one. Another Drew, another Jeff, another James, and another and another.

He eases out from under MM’s arm and sits up. He’s unreasonably thirsty. Must be from the bacon. Much as he doesn’t like the canteen, it’s handy. He takes a long drink and lies back down. Sits back up. He’s being stupid. This is his best chance to get away. Jensen is unbound, and MM is fast asleep. It may be now or never.

He crawls over to where MM left his clothes. He pulls on the camo pants and rolls the hems up twice. The t-shirt is big but that doesn’t matter. He puts on the athletic socks and finds a second pair to pull on over them. The boots are only slightly too big with two pair on. He looks around, picks up MM’s buck knife and shoves it in the thigh pocket. He slips on the rain poncho and steps out into the rain.

He glances behind him. He feels like a traitor and takes a step back but stops himself. MM raped and kidnapped him. Jensen knows he’s fucked up, but it’s stupid that he should have to remind himself of what the guy’s done to him. He needs to get away. He needs to be in control of his life.He starts down the rocks beside the rushing waterfall. The path seems steeper going down and the footing is treacherous. About halfway down, Jensen’s boots slip from beneath him and slides a few feet on his ass before catching hold of a sapling and jerking to a stop. He wrenches his shoulder but is grateful for his luck. One foot hangs out over the edge of the cliff. He pulls himself back and creeps the rest of the way down.

He follows the stream for quite a way. He has no idea where they’d come down the hill into the gorge. He wonders where it will lead him if he continues following the stream. He’s getting tired. He hasn’t done much the past few days but lay around. He yawns. He shouldn’t be tired. He should be filled with adrenaline, but his legs feel heavy. He stumbles. He pauses with his hand on a tree trunk. He can barely keep his eyes open.

The realization hits him. He’s slept through most of the past couple of days. The metallic taste of the canteen water. MM never drinks from the canteen. Jensen sinks to his knees and leans against the tree. He’s been drugged. He’ll never get away.

He’s chilled. He wishes for warm, strong arms. Blackberry jam.

~~~

He’s bound tighter than usual. He’s laid out on his back. His wrists are bound above his head to something he can’t see, probably a rock. His ankles are bound likewise in a spread eagle position. His head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. He’s thirsty and hurts all over.

MM is crouched by the camp stove, but Jensen doesn’t smell food. He wonders how MM got him back up the cliff. By the feel of it, he may have dragged him. Jensen feels unreasonably as though he deserves it.

“I’m sorry,” he says. It comes out as a croak.

MM turns his head but doesn’t answer.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen repeats. “I was stupid. I don’t know why I did it.”

MM rises. “I know why you did it, but you won’t do it again.” He approaches, and he has something in his hand, a metal rod that glows white hot at the end.

“No. No, no, nonononono,” Jensen begs.

MM presses it to Jensen’s hip, and he screams.

~~~

The pain drags him into consciousness. It takes his breath away. He twitches and opens his eyes. Realizes he isn’t bound. There’s gauze taped over the agonizing spot on his hip. He wants to rip it away, tear at the flesh, remove it too. His hands hover over the bandage.

“Leave it be,” MM says. He crouches down beside Jensen and offers him a cup of water. Jensen weakly lifts his head, and MM puts his hand under Jensen’s head to support it as he drinks. The water is fresh and cold.

“Thank you,” Jensen whispers when he’s drained the cup. MM lowers Jensen’s head back to the pillow.

“You’re mine. Do you understand?”

Jensen nods weakly. “Yes, Brother. I’m yours.”

Brother strokes his hair. “I’m sorry, baby boy. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know. I know, you didn’t.” Jensen believes that. If he hadn’t tried to run, he wouldn’t have been branded. He understands how this works. He knows the rules. Submit, surrender, obey.

Maybe this isn’t so bad, he thinks. Maybe this one really does want him. Maybe he’ll keep him.

“Tomorrow, we’ll go home if the rain stops,” Brother says. He strips out of his clothes and lies down beside Jensen.

“Home?”

“Mm-hm, this is just a hunting camp,” he says. “Tomorrow, we’ll go home.” He kisses Jensen behind the ear. “Get some sleep.”

~~~

The day is cool but bright. The rain of the previous day has burned off the land quickly leaving everything clean and fresh.

They hike clear down the ravine that Jensen had followed and turn up another hollow at the branch. This is harder going, uphill and steeper. With each new path and turn, Brother talks about plants and mushrooms he’s found there or animals he’s hunted.

Jensen is soon fatigued, but Brother who carries a heavy pack on his back, hasn’t slowed down a bit. They rest when they get to the ridge. This time Brother drinks from the canteen, so Jensen doesn’t hesitate to do so as well. Gone is the metallic taste. He ought to feel like a fool, but he just doesn’t care.

They continue on along the ridge before dropping into another hollow. Jensen is lagging behind, and they stop again to rest. Brother gives him a granola bar to eat and checks the burn on his hip. Jensen only glimpses the blackened skin and feels his gorge start to rise. He looks away and fights the urge to vomit the granola bar back up. Brother covers the wound with fresh gauze and offers him the canteen. He takes a couple of sips and hands it back.

They hike on for another hour or so before stepping into a clearing. There’s a cabin on its far edge. It’s made of logs grayed with age and weather and had a tin roof. A porch runs across the front. A big, black cat lounges on the step. An old Chevy stepside pick-up the color of green Play-doh sits out front. A rusty tractor is entangled in a thicket of blackberry briars. Chickens wander across the yard, hunting and pecking for worms and grubs.

Brother grins and throws an arm around Jensen’s shoulders. “Damn, it’s good to be home.”

“Yeah,” Jensen says without thinking.

Brother leads him up the steps to the cabin. A calico cat slips in ahead of them when Brother opens the door. The downstairs seems to be divided into four equal rooms. The front door leads directly into a sitting room with a couch and a large chair. It’s neat but the furnishings worn. A bookcase stuffed full sets against the far wall.

There’s an open staircase in the corner and beside its foot is a doorway through which Jensen glimpses a big claw-foot tub. To their left is the kitchen with an ancient gas range and a humming Frigidaire with a pull handle that was outlawed more than fifty years ago because kids could get trapped in them.

Brother goes into the kitchen and checks what is in the refrigerator. Jensen follows him and looks around. The walls are pale yellow and the white ruffled curtains have a border of faded cherries. He wonders if Brother’s mother had put them up and what had happened to his parents.

“You look exhausted,” Brother said. “Why don’t you go lie down. The bedroom’s back there.” He nods toward a door on the other side of the kitchen.

The curtains are pulled in the bedroom and the light filtering in is dim, but Jensen can make out the shape of the bed, a bureau, nightstand, and desk. He turns on the lamp beside the bed. It looks like something that he’s seen at garage sales, something that had been in an attic or a grandmother’s house.

There are photos hanging over the desk – a man and woman leaning against the Chevy pick-up when it was new. She was wearing dungarees rolled up above bobby socks and sneakers. He wore loafers, creased trousers and a white dress shirt. In another shot she wore a dress and held a baby. There was a succession of children, two boys, and a girl. Jensen recognizes the difference in film and age of the prints. Clothing styles change some and the pick-up aged. The oldest boy became a man, took a wife, had two boys.

Jensen stops on a photo of the boys. The taller one is clearly Brother – younger, less muscular but the same mop of hair and dimples. He’s sitting on the cabin steps with his arm around the shoulders of a younger kid who is leaning into the embrace. They are both grinning at the camera. A border collie sits at their feet. Jensen sees what Brother does in the shorter one – wide eyes, full mouth, sun-kissed hair – but his face is more angular than Jensen’s, more like Brother’s. His skin is more golden than cream.

Brother comes in and stands beside him, puts an arm around his shoulders. “Good to be home, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says absently. “Who’s this?” He points at the smaller boy in the photo.

Brother laughs. “That’s you, baby boy. Don’t you remember? That’s the day you became mine.” He tips Jensen’s head up and kisses him.

Jensen shivers, and Brother pulls him toward the bed. “I’m so glad you’re home,” Brother says and draws Jensen into his arms.  “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Yeah,” Jensen says, lying down beside him. “Me too.”

**_-30-_ **

  



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